In less than five minutes Jess was bouncing off the walls. She couldn’t stop thinking about Nicolas. The little boy was in grave danger. The thought of how frightened and confused he must be tore her up inside. The realization that she’d let down her friend was unbearable.
“I’m sorry, Angela,” she whispered.
Jess paced the confines of the RV, feeling trapped and helpless and so frustrated she wanted to scream. She thought about Madrid, and frustration transformed quickly into worry. Armed only with a revolver and facing a dozen men armed with semiautomatic weapons, he didn’t stand a chance. Would he contact MIDNIGHT for backup? She couldn’t think of anyone else he would trust. Even if he did contact someone to watch his back, would they get there in time?
The thought of Madrid getting hurt—or worse—because he was too heroic to involve her tied her into knots. Everything they’d shared in the hours before he left came rushing back. The sadness in his eyes when he spoke of the past. The gentle brush of his touch. The soft whisper of his voice. The heat in his eyes when he looked at her…
The chirp of the cell phone Madrid had left her jerked her from her reverie. A number she didn’t recognize came up on the display. “Hello?”
“Jess? It’s Father Matthew.”
Surprise rippled through her. “Are you all right?” she asked. “Have you heard anything about Nicolas?”
“Unfortunately no. I’m in an ambulance on the way to the hospital.” His voice sounded weak and very much like Madrid’s. In the background she could hear sirens. “Is Mike still there?” he asked.
“He left five minutes ago.”
“Look, it’s probably not important, but I thought of something after I hung up.”
“What?”
“Well, I’ve spent quite a bit of time with Nicolas since you and Mike left him here at the church. I have some experience with children who for whatever reason are noncommunicative. When I had dinner with him last night… Well, I know this might sound a little crazy, but I think he’s been trying to tell us something.”
Jess found herself leaning forward, clutching the phone tightly. “Like what?”
Matt continued. “Early on we thought he was calling out for his mother.”
Mah-mah. Mah-mah.
Jess recalled clearly the little boy’s wrenching cries. “I remember.”
“The more time I spent with him, the more I came to realize he was not calling out for his mother. I think he was repeating a name he’d heard. Maybe even during the crime.”
Mah-mah. Mah-mah.
The hair on Jess’s nape prickled as realization struck her like a punch. “My God.”
“What?”
“Mummert,” she whispered. “Chief of Police Mummert.”
“You think he’s in on it?”
“I think he murdered Angela.” Thinking of her friend, she closed her eyes. “I have to go.”
“Jess—”
Knowing he would try to talk her out of what she was about to do, Jess disconnected. For a moment she gripped the cell phone, her mind reeling. Angela had believed Mummert to be an ally. Had she confided in Mummert? Had she told him about the MIDNIGHT Agency and her investigation? Did he know Madrid was a MIDNIGHT Agent?
The thought of Madrid walking into a trap made her knees go weak. She looked down at the cell phone. He’d given her his only means of communication; there was no way to call him, warn him. He’d told her to stay put. But how could she when he could be walking into an ambush?
She couldn’t stay here and do nothing while the man she loved walked into a trap. But Madrid had left her without a vehicle. The shipyard was too far away to reach on foot. She could call a cab, but that would entail a wait and involve another person. She could try to find a vehicle with the keys left in the ignition.
It dawned on her then that she could drive the RV.
Dashing to the front of the vehicle, she shoved open the door to the cab. She got an impression of bucket seats with a console in the center. Large steering wheel. Digital dash. No keys.
Where are the keys?
Then she remembered seeing Madrid take the keys from a cabinet, and dashed into the galley. She flung open the cabinet door and her heart stuttered when she spotted a single key dangling from a hook.
“I’m sorry, Madrid,” she whispered as she darted back to the cab and climbed into the driver’s seat. “But there’s no way in hell I’m going to let you get yourself killed.”
JESS PARKED the RV on the same muddy road she and Madrid had used the night before. As soon as she was on board the ship, she would call Jake Vanderpol and let him know what she was doing in case something went wrong.